


Slow Burn

by frozenpapers



Category: Frozen (2013), Helsa - Fandom, Iceburns - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-19
Updated: 2014-05-19
Packaged: 2018-01-25 17:51:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1657148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frozenpapers/pseuds/frozenpapers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[Five years post-frozen]<br/>She didn't expect everything to end up like this. She told herself she wouldn't let his venomous green eyes and menacing sweet smile get to her. But when he slammed her hard on the cold walls, everything changed. And now here she was, listening to his lies once more, just like her sister did.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Slow Burn

It was as if time didn’t matter to the both of them as they stood stock still, her back to his, her head bowed in solemn defeat. She watched the jubilant men and women of Arendelle as she tried her best to listen to him, to at least hear him out. But her mind was clouded with her own thoughts, and no matter how much she could bring herself to pay attention, her mind would waver, just like it always does when it came to this. Impatiently, she clutched the window pane, as she tried her best to calm her down, tried her best to keep her magic in check. She did not want to make a scene, especially in front of  _him_. He was merely a  _stranger_ , a stranger who should not mean anything to her. And yet he  _does_ , and she does not know why.

True it had been years since the incident, but she just couldn’t bring herself to forgive him nor could she bring herself to forget about him entirely. She knew she had no business thinking about him, but yet here she was, stock still in front of him with her mind disarray and frustration nibbling at the ends of her patience. What was making her stay here with him, she know not what. It confused her to no avail to even consider those lingering words escaping those plump and slightly chapped lips of his. And what was ironic about the whole thing, about her being here, was that she was not listening to his fickle words of plea and stringed lies to beautify his apologies that seemed to go on endlessly. She seemed, somewhat like a marionette whose strings were in the hands of traitor,  _namely Hans_. She’d let him drag her here without even considering the pros and cons, and what Anna might think about the whole situation.

She seemed like she lost her mind when she had let him do so, when she had let him slam her back against the cold walls of the dungeon and plunge her into the embers of tryst weeks ago before they came to this suffocating confinement of apologies and possible lies. She’d let him sweet talk her into lust, had let him play with her heart like a master puppeteer in a fair. And yet she did not protest, not until now – silently. She knew it was her own fault for letting it come to this, for letting him in. It was her own fault for letting her heart speak, her body respond, and for silencing her mind. And now that she’s stuck in between this predicament, she had lost all her defenses to fight back and to turn her back away from all of this, from him. It was too much now, and she knew far better than anyone else, that she can no longer retract and count the misdeeds she had done and erase them throughout history.

He was asking too much of her now. Not only did he ask for the satisfaction and the answering sighs she’d been providing him, but now he was asking for her heart, for her soul, for her entirety. And she can’t help but feel suffocated, as if the walls in her cell are confining her to death. He was, she knew, the master of the cell, the one who is keeping her inside. Whatever writhe, whatever effort she’d make to escape, she would only fall back to where they were, muted and her body relentless to his touch. Because it feels so good, it feels so good to just stay there in his rigid arms and listen to his steady heart beat and lies.

**“Your Grace,”**

And in an instant she was brought back to the reality she has to face, she has to dwell in  _with him_. She nodded as she turned to face him, urging him to proceed as if she was listening. With another sigh of exasperation, she turned to face the window once more with a grimace that she had tried so hard to suppress.

“Are you listening?” He queried impatiently as he tapped his foot.

She squeezed her eyes shut as she balled her hands into fists, ignoring the sudden cold rising in the tips of her fingers. His poisonous emerald green eyes never failed to take notice of the littlest details of quite possibly everything that surround him. And it had irritated him how he could see right through her as if she was a crystalline glass. She so wanted to claw his eyes out just so that he could never tell whenever she was uncomfortable – or in this case, not listening to every bit of lie he was saying. But she knew it wouldn’t do any good as well, for he knew her far better than she knew of that herself. She gritted her teeth as she willed herself to think of those happy thoughts Anna had helped her locate throughout the years.

_Conceal, don’t feel._

And the mantra she had so long carried with her rang through her head as she spun around with quite grace every woman envied. She tried a smile as she clapped her hands together and placed it right in front of her.

“Yes,” And she knew that it was another lie yet to be told and added to her generous supply. She had no choice, she mused, she could never bring herself to listen to him.

She turned once more, with her teeth gritted – no, being ground together, to face the grandfather clock seated at the corner right next to her paperless table she so  _wished_  it would be filled with work right now. The old timer went  _tick-tock-tick-tock_  as seconds passed by, as uncomfortable seconds eased their way through the hollowness of the day. She had to smother the flames that were lashing out inside her, that were begging her to open up the gates of flurry.

_Put on a show._

But likewise their solemn conversations, she was engaged with a silent bicker with her own self that she always fails to notice his arms slipping through her waist, and his lips being leveled to her ear for a silent whisper. And there it is again, the silent hiss of a viper, crooning in her ear, filling her with venomous words. And likewise, she would comply.

“I’m  _sorry._ ” He murmured low into her ear, without a hint of seduction she’d grown used to hear, but only sincerity he had tried so hard to muster without damaging the only thing he has besides Elsa –  _pride_.

She pressed her eyes close, her mind once again clouded with deceit. She suddenly felt cold, and of course,  _numb_. And one thought only prevailed in her mind then –  **run**.

But she felt numb and weak as he held her as if she was worth more than diamonds, as he had hit  _closer and closer_  to  **home**. More and more, her fury boiled right through her and all proclamations of love and of apologies were then history to her. She pried his arms off as she turned to face him, her eyes as blue and as clouded as the storm that was  _brewing_  inside of her.

“What do you  _want_?” And now it was her turn to speak, her turn to ask the questions that were then silenced by none other than his searing kisses.

He was taken aback as he stepped backwards with his hands raised in defense. He knew quite well what she was capable of; he didn’t want to end up like a frozen statue in a buffet island.

“Forgiveness,” he replied bluntly. “Weren’t you listening?” He queried as he risked a step forward.

Elsa pinked. “I’m the queen, I ask the questions.” She stated firmly as she tried to regain her balance, noting that she was shaking underneath his toxic gaze.

Tempted to raise an auburn brow at this, he pressed a hand on his temple, trying to control the urge to do so. He opened his mouth to speak once more, but she raised a dismissive hand to silence him.

“Why does it matter?” She asked as she folded her arms against her chest.

 _Better to keep my cold hands to myself before I’d cause something that I would dreadfully regret latterly_.

An airy sigh escaped his lips as he ran his hand through his hair in obvious impatience. “It matters to me.” He murmured as he lowered his gaze to avoid her skeptical stare.

“You didn’t answer my question.” She spat with pure venom.

_Conceal_

He slammed his hand on her desk, hard enough to startle her and make her jump. Tears burned at the back of his eyes as he turned to face the other end of the room. “Not all people want to remain  _evil_  for the rest of their life.” He mumbled as he shook his head in grief.

She stopped pacing at this as she turned her back against his. She placed her hands on the window as she looked over her people with complete confusion. She never felt so bare all in her life as she let the cold sew new sets of frosts on the once clear glass. She could hear the littlest protests as they cracked from her touch, but she couldn’t care less, for she felt as blank as a slate. And she couldn’t think straight, for her mind was crowded with questions that were yet to be answered through time.

 _What were you thinking letting him in? I thought I knew you far better than_ this _, Elsa. How could_ you _?_

She had to suppress a whimper as she held the glass like a vine. How could she not let him in, with his voice as sweet as honey, his touch as painfully good igniting her soul? What choice did she have when she was slammed on that cold stoned walls, letting her feel loved for the first time? She had no choice but to comply, but to submit to him. Men kept their distance because of what she could do, and now that she saw that damning opportunity she had to grasp it because God knew when the next one would come in. She had no choice but to relish those moments when she felt nothing but free, when she had not a bit of envy in her, of jealousy , and of the self-loathing. She was left no choice.

And because of him, she had that chance to love someone that was not a relative or a family friend. Because of him, she had the chance to take that giant leap of faith. And of course, it was because of him that she was so  _hurt_.

“Why?” She whimpered as she felt the stinging pain wring her hands.

He turned then with a sad smile in his face, but then it dropped when he saw  _red_. “Your Majesty, your –”

“Ignore it.” She said as she pressed them together, trying to ease away the pain. “ _Why?_ ” She repeated as she bit her lip and held back a whimper.

He dared to step forward, to tend to those wounds that were causing her pain. But what he didn’t know was that she whimpered not because of the excruciating pain, but because of the  _wound_  that was deepening in her heart. “Why what?” He asked vaguely as he itched to kiss her fingers one by one.

She didn’t realize she was squeezing her hand too hard, hard enough for it to break in two as she watched him with tearful eyes, the question burning at the back of her mind. “Was that your motive? To win me over with your  _lies?_ ”

Blood pulsated through her temples as her temper rose and  _rose_  and  **rose**  until all she could hear was the thump,  _thump_ ,  **thump**  it had produced as if to annoy her further. Her legs felt lax as she waited for his answer, as the clock ticked achingly slow and the world spun as if to tease in a very slow pace. She hadn’t realized that she was biting her lip until she tasted the metallic fluid course through her tongue, but likewise, she could care less about everything. She had only one  _thing_  in mind.

“Motive?” He asked in disbelief as a menacing smile flitted through his lips. “I’d love to hear about that, Your Majesty.” He said in mock interest, the title rolling off his tongue as if to insult.

Elsa cradled her head as she turned to a pace; her eyes shut close, murmuring a silent oath.  _Your Majesty,_  and it seemed as if it was to degrade her, to filter her with that royal venom he had been trying to spew upon her. It was too much; all of this was too much. She had that horrid urge to laugh as she leaned on the shelves that carried most of her books about law and history.

_I told you he was trouble._

She had to sneer at that as she realized that she was making things complicated for herself – or worse, for Anna. She never meant to  _betray_  her sister, not in the sense anyway. She’d been selfish, that was true. But hadn’t they all? In fact, hadn’t Anna decidedly turned her back from her just because she had an inkling of what was going on? But of course, she had a  _rational and definite_  reason to do so. Unlike her who only wanted to be  **happy**  just this  _once_.

“ _Why?_ ” She had to ask again, almost to herself as she lowered her head in defeat and in grievance.

He couldn’t bring himself to despise the way she had accused him as he watched her knees go weak. And then it had struck him, he had been in the exact same position half a decade ago. But this time he was not going to let her crumble just like he did before. With that, he understood why she had continuously asked him  _why_.

“ _Elsa_ , I…”

And when he had addressed her by her first name with that  _look_  in his deceiving emerald green eyes, she then understood  _why_. She shook her head as grief then again found the best of her, pulling away her security blanket off of her feet once more. Then she looked at him, the same way she looked at him with those set of mourning azure eyes half a decade ago.

 

“Don’t you  _see?_  I  **can’t**.”


End file.
